starve this sin
by queenslayers
Summary: had they been wrong not to ask for forgiveness / a snippet of blaise and pansy post war.


**a/n:** written for the 500 different pairings challenge.

a small glimpse at pansy/blaise post war

 **warning:** the following story is written in all lower case.

 **pairing** — pansy parkinson / blaise zabini

 **disclaimer** : i don't own anything.

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she had never been fond of the rain. the haunting sound of water dripping down her windowsill, or the soft pitter patter that kept her awake in the midst of another hard evening. to her it was nothing but a constant reminder, a demon latched unto her back with no intent on ever letting go. how was it, she'd wondered, that the smallest of things had caused the greatest strife. she was raised to be better, raised to be smarter, to be _honourable_. yet, in the middle of a war she'd found herself nothing if not afraid. truth be told, pansy parkinson had never been someone to dote upon. where most would've considered themselves knights, valiant and brave. she herself had known nothing but the life of a pawn — cursed with the ever looming inkling of failure that remained prominent in her mind. perhaps it was this fact alone that had driven her deeper and deeper into the madness she became so familiarized with. a girl of her stature, built to rule empires, had now been confronted with the fact that she would only merely crumble them. leaving nothing but disaster in her wake.

dead eyes stare into the abyss, the gentle breeze echoing throughout the evening. palms remain cupped around her steaming mug, a coping mechanism. a cup o' tea in order to feign from a drink much stronger. a drink she'd craved much more. knees pressed against her chest, the girl cannot help but release a sigh. a breath hitched in her throat a moment too long and they'd begin asking questions. there hadn't ever been a time in which she could recall the sense of loneliness that enamoured her as greatly as it had now. in hogwarts she'd always had draco to fall back on, and when that had failed she'd find comfort in a four poster bed with theodore. yet, they'd each found something much more satisfying now it had seemed. they were no longer roaming down cobblestone streets, finding strangers in the reflections that came with every shop window. drake's wedding announcement had done nothing but cause a jealous rage to erupt in pansy, if only for a moment, before she'd realized she'd dodged a life of expectations. here, she was a ghost of a girl. here, she had been able to create something else entirely, _someone_ else.

she suspects it cannot be later than two in the morning, the earliest she's felt a yawn breach the back of her throat in some time. yet, it itches and awakens her consciousness enough to cause a stir. light footfalls echo throughout the room as she realizes she isn't alone. how long, she cannot be sure, but she knows he's here. he always has been. there's a silence that follows, a comfort if she's ever felt one. _blaise_ , her most trusted companion. where she remained venomous and hostile, he had grown into a soft spoken gentleman of sorts. carrying her when she'd found herself falling from a state of grace she'd never intended on achieving.

"blaise." his name escapes her as that of a gentle purr, a moment of weakness. "do you ever sleep?" it's delivered with an arched brow, gaze averted and unable to face her visitor. a loose statement if she'd ever thought one, that this flat wasn't as much his as it was hers.

"same could be said about you." back pressed against the threshold of the sitting room, his arms are crossed against chest as he retorts. there isn't too much that they have now, if only one another. the parkinson name besmirched, pansy had clawed her way out of the trenches that were her families legacy. whereas, in the final acts of the war, blaise had found himself utterly alone after his mothers departure. some had called it a tragedy, he himself had only considered himself luckier than ever.

the rain continued, drowning out any chance the girl had had of slumber. in that thoughts wake was nothing less than sinful. moonlight dripping against lightly freckled skin adorned in the finest of silken robes. pansy oft found herself wondering how it was that blaise could resist such a seduction. to her dismay, draco and theodore had always been easier to fool. had always been easier to slide in and out of a four poster bed in the midsummers eve, unapologetically entangled bodies dripping with nothing but regret. yet, blaise had remained pure to her wicked grin, to her harshened words. she was notoriously cruel, a heart of iron, unscathed to the common eye. he, however, had managed to see right through the facade in which she'd put together so well.

blaise glides against hardwood, taking refuge aside her. how his hand aches to reach out, to feel the delicacy that he found came with her touch. a gentle cough escapes him, as if to conceal any thought that was sure to follow. they had always had an understanding. to one another they were just a mere reminder of everything they'd once had, everything they'd lost. nothing more, nothing less. for, while they'd both liked to deny whatever sense of home they'd felt in one another's presence, it seemed inevitable. how routine his visits had become, how she sought him out in the dead of night if only just to lay in silence.

"i couldn't sleep." as if it's brand new information. her demons catch up with her in every blink of an eye, he understands. a mere nod, his jaw clenches as pansy's legs find refuge dropped across that of his own in one swift movement. a gentle sigh itches at her throat before she allows it to break the silence between them. blaise zabini had remained one of her closest confidants, someone to fall back on. now, however, she was unsure.

"then i suppose i'll keep you company." he says it as if he hadn't already made up his mind. lithe digits extend, yet they don't intend to acknowledge. it's with ease that with a free hand she laces her fingers through his own. not once does pansy allow her dark hooded gaze to catch sight of his own. instead, she remains focused on the puddle swathed streets.

the war had changed them, that much was evident. the loss in which everyone else had succumbed to had stirred nothing but freedom in the pair. had it been wrong to celebrate, had it been wrong to not ask for forgiveness nor redemption? Instead, they'd simply asked for privacy, for a loneliness that came with becoming a ghost, irrelevancy wearing well upon a pair who'd spent so long in the shadows of their past companions.

there's a moment in which she ponders the relevance of soulmates. sitting upon windowsill in the company of a man who'd asked nothing of her. if they ever existed, if it was something she had been deemed worthy of, she was sure hers had been blaise. the gentle tickle of his fingers ghosting against her legs, as regal stare finds itself enthralled by the quiet lamp lit streets below, give her nothing but a peace of mind. in the dead of night, she'd whisper i love you and he would pull her closer. by morning, however, she'd be gone and he himself would slide out into the bustling london streets awaiting the following night.

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 **a/n:** as always, reviews are greatly appreciated. thank you for reading.


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